First of all to explain the scene. We were going agianst a high level drow elf who had mirror image on, stoneskin, blur and an AC of -10 (2ed rules) He was unharmed vs us. One palidine held by him a cleric out of spells down to 7 hp, a dwarf down to 12 hp and me a draconian down to 3 hp.
Me: All right Drow. I'll ask you one last time. Surrender to me and we promiss a quick death. Drow: For the last time Stop Asking me!
First playing in a second edition game, my wife, and our two friends (also a married couple, still game with them 16 years later...). I don't even remember what I was playing but my wife was trying a PSI character for the first (and only time).
Renee goes to refill soda f"This is a bribe" Steve : Everyone Roll initiative. Me : Roll low Renee : Roll low Steve's wife : Roll low Steve: Kobolds roll high Steve: Kobold throws a spear at Renee. Steve: Critical, (using house rule insta kill) your'e dead.
From that day forward "Bribing the DM" with Coke is a dead sure way to die. We still say "not a bribe" when filling Steve's glass.
Second, same players I was DM'ing first edition Shadowrun, the group had just had a firefight with a gang (I5ers if you know old Shadowrun) and had knocked one unconscious stuffed them in the back of their rented limo and continued the running fire fight.
Three days later, after several more run ins with the gang, Steve: You know we still don’t know why they are trying to kill Gay: We should try to capture one and interrogate them… Renee: what ever happened to the one we stuck in the trunk?
We laughed for several minutes then they preceded to the interrogation...
I can't remember half the funny things that happens in the games I play in. Still, last session in Al Quadim I remember. I play a Sah'er (wizard) with primary goal in life to obtain magic items (in an extremely low magic setting).
A long story short, I get information that leads to the arrest of a gang of thieves in a city, and reports to the authorities to get the reward (150 gp). But I never checked the house they were in. Later, two other in my party (Beduin types) check the thieves house along with Mamelukes (guards), and of course find a magic item.
Later, whn they tell I say (while shaking all over)
me: You found a magic item?
me: and you gave it to the mamelukes?
they: yes (nodding vigerously)
me:.... well... as is the right thing to do isn't it? (trembling, eyes twitching)
My favorite in game quote has actually been posted on these boards before: here.
Just a snipit from that thread. Background is, we were forced to be allied with an evil dragon by our inept DM. My friend, Galahad, had just gotten through explaining to the DM that being forcibly allied with an evil dragon goes against his character concept.
Galahad the Pure]At this point my DM got really flustered and informed me that the dragon didn’ wrote:
At this point my DM got really flustered and informed me that the dragon didn’t give any specific orders other than to look for towns that would be easy for him to conquer. While I am still arguing with him about why I wanted to get rid of my character and make an independent one, one of the other players made a suggestion that completely turned my mood around. (Thanks, Tom!)
THE TOWER OF EXAGGERATED SORCERY!!!
We then send a message to the dragon (he gave us an item that gives us a telepathic bond) that the Tower of Exaggerated Sorcery would be ideal for him to conquer. The plan was basically this: the wizards there are too incompetent to deal with this dragon, who, by the way, was not susceptible to whatever force it was that made every mage a half-caster. He lays siege to the tower, and we make plans to come back the next day and walk proudly through the rubble.
If the dragon wins, I feel vindicated because (a) my character had an antagonistic relationship with the wizards all along and (b) the DM doesn’t have his precious magical stronghold anymore. Then I can quit this game with a feeling of satisfaction, which I knew I’d be doing anyway by the end of the night.
If the tower wins, I go back to the town of dragon-worshippers and tell them I’m their new god, which would put an interesting new spin on the campaign storyline. It’s a no-lose situation.
Well, we arrived the day after the assault, and much to my consternation, the tower was still standing. My character knocked on the door, expecting that the only survivors would be badly wounded, only to find the usual terse, rude, impossibly high-level mages, at full health to boot. They informed me that the dragon attacked, but fled while they held their ground. For some reason, I decided to show them the rune on my back, and they just took me to a waiting room. When they returned, they knew I was the one who sent the dragon. I later found out that they had cast contact other plane, which is suspicious coming from wizards who were too busy to cast detect magic. More suspicious was the fact that the DM never rolled any of the failure chances for the questions, and each question is answered in a one-word answer, making it very hard to find out exactly who told the dragon to attack.
At this point, I was really frustrated with the endless nerfs I was being hit with, and I decided that if my character can’t commit suicide without a lecture, he’s going to die trying to kill the mages. The result was that I got hit by 5 hold persons, and was transported (somehow, because teleport only works on willing creatures) to another room. There, they removed the rune on my character’s back, and put on a new one. I was told that if I ever returned to the tower, I would be disintegrated on sight.
At this point, I was determined to watch the tower fall before I quit this campaign permanently. I called up the dragon, and said to him, “You didn’t finish the job.”
My personal favorite occured just about 9 years ago in a game with my brother (the Fighter) and my best friend (the Wizard, who at that time had Int 18). They had just recieved a letter from a mysterious benefactor, telling them about a dungeon just outside of town:
DM (me): A messenger arrives at your inn with a letter from your mysterious benefactor. Fighter: Alright, I take the letter and tip the messenger. I open it and start to read.
I read the contents of the letter out loud (which detail the dungeon's entrances and exits, some of the creatures within, etc), and when I finish, the wizard responds with this:
Wizard (apparently speaking to the letter): What else can you tell us about the creatures within the dungeon? How many are there? What types? Do they have reinforcements? Do they have shift changes, and if so, when do they change? DM: Fighter: Wizard: What? Fighter: Dude, parchment can't speak.
An ally of the party had been captured by thier main enemy, a local politician, and had been turned over to some of her former associates, a particularly nasty and brutish band. When the party finally caught up to them in thier lair, they discovered to thier disgust and shock that the half fiend in the enemy group had tortured thier friend, a fellow named Dwight who was the son of a prominent general, by chopping off a finger each day and consuming it. When they came upon poor Dwight, shivering and wounded in a tiny cell, the party barbarian attempted to comfort him.
Agatha (barbarian): At least they left your sword hand alone. Dwight: Th-that was... my.... my sword hand... Agatha: That's alright. You were a pretty awful warrior to begin with. Dwight: My father... he'll be so dissapointed... Agatha: From what we heard he disowned you. Actually, I have a letter here with me. *Agatha pulls out a letter she found earlier, from Dwight's father to the BBEG Agatha: Yeah. He said he refused to pay your ransom. Something about how you'd die sooner or later anyway. Dwight: ....sob.... Agatha: Er, you okay buddy? Something I said?
On another occasion, a player decided to try something er, new and unusual. This brought out the dark side of the party fighter.
Malko (new character): Greetings! I am Malko! I have heard much of your great deeds and wish to join you! Thornix (party fighter): Hello, Malko. Hod (rogue): We're flattered by your compliments. So, what could you bring to our merry band? Malko: I'm glad you asked. As you can see by my fullplate, I'm well equipped for battle. Yet, within seconds I can remove this harness and cast all of my spells! In fact, with a small chance of failure I can even demonstrate my magical powers WITH the armor ON! Thornix' player: ... Hod's player: .... you did know this campaign took place in the DESERT, right? Malko's player: Yeah, but you know. Who cares. It's not like we'll be in the hot part too much. Thornix's player: DM? Would it be an evil act to kill this guy? Someone's bound to soon, that is unless he blunders off into the desert alone in his FULL PLATE.
As it happened, after a few sessions Malko blundered off alone into the desert to solo some orcs. As it happened, an orc soloed him. Exit Malko. Incidentally, the player's replacement PC, a wizard named Pancho, became an enduring and beloved comic relief character of the campaign. Go figure.
Mayor's Butler (bruised and battered): Hello? Oh! Y-y-you! Pancho (abashed): I want to apologize. For, you know. Punching you the other day. Mayor's Butler: Th-th-think nothing of it, s-s-s-s-sir. Pancho: I'm glad you understand. I baked you this cake. Actually, I bought it. But let's pretend, between you and me, that I baked it. Mayor's Butler: ...th-thanks.
Adventurer's League Secretary: All registering groups must submit an official name for thier party/band/troupe or other affiliated unit. Agatha: Hrmm... Thornix: This might take awhile. We want a great name for ourselves. Dwight: Something with 'blood' in it? Or 'sword'? Or 'razor'? How about the 'razor blood swords'? Pancho: I like... 'Pancho's Kaboomers'!! Agatha: NO! Thornix: NO!! Secretary: Pancho's Kaboomers it is.
Pancho: Father! Priest! You there! Priest: Greetings, my son. May the gods smile on you today. Pancho: My friend has been affected with a horrible curse. Remove it! Priest: Hmm. This looks to be beyond my abilities. Pancho: What do you mean? Just cast Remove Curse, or Heal. Or something. Priest: Why, those spells are only granted to the mightiest of clerics. I am but a humble acolyte. Pancho: You can't cast a simple 6th level spell? Are you kidding me? Priest: 'Sixth level'...? I... I misunderstand, I think. Pancho: Come on. Can you even make undead? Priest: Make undead?! Why, I never--! Pancho: Come on. Cure me. Cure my HP big shot. Show me your spells, pal. Come on. *Priest casts Cure Minor Wounds. Pancho: 1 HP. Cure Minor Wounds. I punch the priest. DM: You punch the priest!? Pancho: Yeah. I got a 15, plus... alright. Do I hit him? DM: Uh. Yes. Pancho: Ok. 5 damage. DM: 5 damage. You slam your fist into the PRIEST OF HUMILITY AND PEACE'S face, cracking his nose and causing a huge black welt over his eye. He crumples onto a nearby pew with a choked groan. Pancho: Oops. I throw 50 gp on him, to show no hard feelings. DM: Alright. As you pelt the unconscious priest with your chunks of metal, you hear the stifled sobs of orphans and farmer's wives from the doorstep. Pancho: Hrmn. I'm not Chaotic Good anymore, am I...? DM: No. No you're not.
All of these are from a week-long Ravenoft "marathon" game I ran back in High School. Over our vacation, we took a week in which we played D&D into the wee (or not so wee) hours of the morning, until the players fell aslweep or the DM was too loopy to do anything.
The party: Elven Fighter/Mage imported from a generic D&D world, Irda Mage(White Robes)/Cleric(Solinari) imported from Dragonlance, Avariel(as per the Dragon magazine version) Fighter imported from a generic D&D world ([size=1]male player, female character ... and quite possibly the reason why none of my other players has considered the idea since), and an Elf Ranger. [/size]
After a series of incredibly poor choices, the fighter/mage decides the only reasonable course of action is to fireball a village full of Sithican Kender. The cleric of course took exception to this and, using the element of surprise, he pummeled and then bound and gagged the offending elf (named Tim). He then located his companion's spellbook, and confiscated it, saying (in his best "angry parent" voice), "Now, you can have this back whe you learn to behave."
During this time, the Ranger has managed to acquire a Giant Stag Beetle (the preferred mount of Sithican elves) , which he promptly names "Timzanidiot." Hey, it's funnier at 3am.
This last one's funnier without a setup: Player: "I fall to my knees and scream 'I'm sorry!' to the heavens." DM: "Oddly enough, she doesn't come back to life." *rolls* "You just failed a Dark Powers Check." :D
A lot of it is in delivery but in a 3d ed campaign I was the sorcerer and we were debating how to attack this one giant evil tower thing. The thing was we knew which room we wanted and there were windows.
Kaxes (Rogue): We should sneak in! Ray (Fighter): Some are not stealthy enough, clearly we must storm the gate! Me (Sorceror): I. Can. Make. You. Fly.
Just the way I apparently said it was funny. It was a "No Mr. Bond, I expect you to die" kind of voice. Also kind of funny how everyone wanted to do things respective to their class.
Another situation involving the heritage of Ray, our fighter. Earlier in the campaign he was seduced by a succubus who sucked out a good amount of constitution before we rescued him. At that point the succubus ran and dissapeared into shadow. Now this is later on. Asmodeus (Ray's brother, stole the name when he killed the real Asmodeus): Well here we have the entire family here, huh Ray? Ray: Well technically most of you are undead. And the succubus isnt related. Asmodeus: Yes. She is. Me OOC: Dude you did your sister! Ray: This is about the point that I commit sebbekku